


Lost In Your Eyes

by Off_to_Neverland



Category: Daredevil (Comics), Daredevil (TV)
Genre: Daredevil – Freeform, Gen, M/M, mattfoggy - Freeform, mattfoggy one shot, sick matt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-18
Updated: 2015-08-18
Packaged: 2018-04-15 09:46:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,273
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4602138
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Off_to_Neverland/pseuds/Off_to_Neverland
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Foggy Nelson comes home to a too quiet apartment and worry takes ahold.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lost In Your Eyes

No snide remarks about my singing around the office. No sound at all, honestly. That is what freaked me out more than anything upon entering the apartment, half-drunk, singing that song Matt always hated. My heart skipped a beat. Something was wrong. Something was very wrong. 

I never worried about Matt, never once. Why, one might ask? Well, Matt was always able to take care of himself. He never once seemed to /need/ me the way I needed him. He was always alright. He might be blind, but he often ended up arriving where he needed to be before me. He never seemed to have a hard time getting around. 

In this moment, however, I worried. I felt as if my heart were going to jump out of my chest and I could feel the sweat beads forming on my forehead. I was never hyper-aware of my surroundings, but he was. He always was. He knew when I was lying. He knew when I was upset. He knew when I was happy. Hell, he knew when I was feverish, before I even did. Matt knew everything despite being unable to see. Sometimes, it was hard to believe he couldn’t see. 

Right now, however, the quiet apartment unnerved me. Usually, Matt was on his feet the moment he heard the lock jiggling, signifying my arrival home. Sometimes, I’d come home to dinner already on the table, even if he left the office but twenty minutes before me. This time, however, all was quiet and that scared me more than I could properly put into words. 

I knew his secret. I knew he was the man in the black mask. He was Daredevil, as he was calling himself. However, that didn’t make the worry less. There were a lot of people out for his head. In the time since he began his vigilante act, he had put a lot of Hell’s Kitchen’s trash behind bars and none of them were very pleased with him. 

Every single time I came home to an empty apartment, his empty apartment, worry would creep up my spine. I couldn’t sleep, not until he came home and I patched him up...or he patched himself up. 

This time was different though. I don’t know how I knew, but I knew. He was supposed to be here. 

“Matt!?!?” I knew my voice was frantic as I called his name, walking the length of the apartment, even pulling the sheets off the bed, as if he could hide there. But he wasn’t there. 

That’s when I heard the groan from the bathroom and saw his foot poking out of the door. For what felt like the millionth time that night, I felt my heart stop and I rushed over to the door, clumsy in my half-drunken state but far more concerned for Matt than myself. 

“Matt!” It took some effort, but I turned him over, frowning when I saw no visible wounds to explain why he was passed out in the bathroom. I never thought I’d be upset by his lack of wounds. However, stab or bullet wounds could be explained and patched up. He had survived all of those things before. This...no physical wounds...no explanation...unnerved me. I didn’t know what was wrong and so I didn’t know how to handle it. “Matt, talk to be, buddy. Please.” I placed my hands on his cheeks, practically cradling him in my arms. 

“Foggy?” His voice was weak as his eyes fluttered open. I was so glad to hear his voice and know he wasn’t dead that I could kiss him...actually I DID kiss him. I kissed him full on, closing my eyes as the relief washed over me and cutting off anything else he may have wanted to say. 

When I pulled back, I looked him over again. He may look physically in-tact, but if he had fallen in the bathroom...something was wrong. Matt didn’t fall. He could use his hyper-senses to climb roof tops and fight some of the worst criminals at Rykers. Falling was not something he did and I couldn’t stop the pounding of my heart from returning, knowing that he had to hear it but caring very little. 

“Matt...what happened?” 

That’s when I heard him sniffle. It never struck me to see if he might be sick. Matt, the self-less, daring hero, Daredevil never seemed to be sick. Yet, as I looked at him that conclusion made sense. He was unusually pale and his cheeks were tinged red. I placed a hand on his forehead and felt as if my hand was on fire. Feverish. 

“Matt, can you hear me?” I asked, slapping his cheeks slightly, still trying to figure out how he had ended up on the bathroom floor. 

“Barely…” were the words that escaped in a raspy voice. 

Yes, Matt, who I always saw as somewhat indestructible was sick. Never in my life did I anticipate the flu, of all things, bringing down my best friend. However, knowing what I did...it made sense. After all, Matt relied heavily on all of his other senses since he couldn’t see. The flu could clog up the ears and nose...taking away two of the most vital senses he had. Clearly, he was off balance and now I knew it was up to me to take care of him for once, as he was always taking care of me (at least in his mind, the reality of it was..I usually ended up taking care of him. I didn’t mind, after all, despite how much sass I could sometimes give him, I loved him.) 

“Come on, buddy, let’s get you up.” 

The task of getting Matt up and standing, wasn’t easy. He was barely conscious and while he might look like he weighed next to nothing, his muscle max made him dead weight and I was certainly no body builder or super soldier. Even so, while it took some work, eventually, I managed to get my partner back into his bed and to tuck the silken sheets around him. 

“Matt, why didn’t you say something? If I knew you were sick...well, I probably still would have gone to work...but I would have taken care of you too, like I am now.” 

Matt just grunted in response. For someone people considered a hero, he was a cranky sick person. He could sustain life threatening injuries and keep going, but the flu had brought him down about one hundred notches. I couldn’t stop myself from chuckling. Now that I knew he wasn’t dying and was merely sick, I could find simple amusement in his grunts. I could even laugh. In fact, I was laughing. This only seemed to earn another groan from my heroic beau and a weak swat, which I easily avoided. 

“I know...I shouldn’t be laughing. Can’t help it though. I mean look at you, you can fight through pain and near fatal injuries and yet the flu has you completely and utterly helpless. You can’t tell me you don’t find this funny!” I teased, reaching over to pat his cheek playfully. “Even so..I will take care of you and I’m going to start by making you something to eat.” 

Matt didn’t answer, he just rolled over onto his side, his back to me now. It didn’t matter...I was in it for the long haul. Despite my teasing, I intended to take care of him, mostly because I loved him but also because god knows I didn’t want to walk into the apartment to dead silence ever again. 

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first story here on a03. I apologize for any formatting errors as I attempt to adjust to the site. I have been reading fics on here for some time and decided it was time to be brave and post my own. Comments and kudos are appreciated and welcomed.


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